


Nepenthe

by James_Baelish



Category: Glass (2019), Split (2016)
Genre: Childhood, Childhood Memories, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Domestic Fluff, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fragment: An Eastrail 177 Fan Novel, Fragmentverse, Fun, Gen, James Baelish's Fragment, Parent-Child Relationship, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21892552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/James_Baelish/pseuds/James_Baelish
Summary: Clarence Crumb’s presence is a reprieve for Kevin and his protective alter Dennis.  Their time together puts them out of reach of the horrific abuse Kevin and Dennis experience at the hands of their cruel mother.  Yet it’s still not easy for the boys.  Whereas Kevin, afraid to take The Light even when Clarence is around, continues to prefer seeking refuge in the safety of The Dark, Dennis is left to form a bond with Clarence who initiates escape through imagination.  Today, he and a very young Dennis play while working in the backyard.Although this can be read as a stand alone, it is the second vignette companion piece that ties into my fan novelFragment. Contains mildFragmentspoilers.
Relationships: Clarence Crumb/Dennis, Kevin Wendell Crumb/Dennis, Penelope Crumb/Dennis
Comments: 11
Kudos: 28





	Nepenthe

**Author's Note:**

> For Cassie, until Roary arrives. Rrrrraaaaarrrrrrr!!!!!

**Nepenthe**

**“One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life: that word is love.”  
\- Sophocles**

Late October was autumn’s Fourth of July with riots of colors exploding through the tree boughs. Despite being just a small child, Dennis knew something special was happening in nature. The air was as crisp as a fresh apple but warm enough to need only a jacket. A magical electricity scintillated across his skin as he followed Kevin’s father Clarence down the stairs of their house’s stoop, refusing the adult’s offered helping hand because he wanted to do it on his own. Roary, his stuffed lion and best friend, was tucked in the crook of his elbow as he grasped the railing and stepped down the steps one at a time. Kevin’s body was only five years old and his legs weren’t very long, which meant the older Dennis needed to be extra careful.

Ever patient and willing to nurture his son’s independence, Clarence waited at the bottom, encouraging him softly, an outstretched hand prepared to catch the boy in case of a misstep. The final step was taken with a celebratory jump to the walkway at the end, earning a round of cheers from Clarence. Fiery pride lit Dennis up from the hearth of his heart and this time he accepted Clarence’s proffered hand as the father led him around the side of the house towards the backyard.

Their home was an old brick row house so the space between the one they lived in and the one next door was claustrophobic tight. With just enough room for the two of them to fit through, it gave Dennis a rush of panicked anxiety. Under an illusion, the walls were coming together, compressing him and Clarence like flies against a great palm. Roary, always a real lion in Dennis’ young eyes, hugged against Dennis with a paw on each shoulder, his worrisome amber eyes fixated upon the walls over his owner’s shoulder. Roary whimpered and hugged against him while Dennis huddled against Clarence’s body; the movement mistaken for his being cold rather than afraid when Clarence wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“You OK, sweetheart?” was the parent’s gentle question.

“The walls will get me,” was Dennis’ blunt reply.

Clarence’s laugh came from the belly and though Dennis loved it when the father laughed, this time he missed what was funny.

“No, you goose! The walls are _standing still_. Walls don’t move, you silly kid!”

“They’re not moving?”

“No, look.”

Clarence placed his hand on the wall of the neighboring house.

“Is my arm moving?” he asked the boy.

Mystified by what must’ve been magic, Dennis shook his head.

“See? They’re standing still, you dork.”

The demonstration put Dennis at peace but his voice came out shrill, the voice of an excited little boy: “Nuh uh, _I’m_ not a dork! _You’re_ a dork!”

He didn’t know what a dork was but he knew he wasn’t one.

“Yes, you are! You’re a silly little dork!”

A compromise was made: “ _Roary_ is a dork!”

The declaration riled Clarence up with a second round of boisterous laughter, followed by Dennis’ gleeful echo.

“Oh, I see! _Roary_ is a dork! _Not_ Kevin!”

Roary licked Dennis’ ear and he wiped the spit away with a quick swipe of his hand, a most unhappy expression on his face.

“Yuck! Roary licked me!”

“That’s because he loves you!”

“Roary is gonna _get_ you!”

“Oh no!!”

Dennis held up his stuffed friend at eye level. “Rrrrrraaaaaaarrrrrrrrrr!! Roary’s getting you! Rrrrrrraaaaaaarrrrrrr!!!!”

Abracadabra cast less of an enchantment than the child’s words. The ordinary urban yard dissolved and was reimagined as a yellow savannah where a hunting Roary hunkered down in the tall grass, biding his time to charge. Not at a gazelle, zebra or wildebeest; a father was the intended meal. Clarence raised his hands to fend off the fierce Roary, feigning terror in the soft attack. He trotted backwards to escape the beast that the child chased him with. Busy with the pursuit, Dennis didn’t realize they’d cleared the walls between the houses. The gentle hunt continued to the center of the yard with Dennis pursuing a fake screaming Clarence until the adult stumbled and fell on his back. Dennis dropped to his knees beside him, shoved Roary in his face and continued to roar.

“OK, OK!” laughed Clarence. “Roary’s got me! He’s got me! I give up! I’m lion food!”

“Roary _ate_ you!”

“Yes, he did! Where did I go?”

Pointing at Clarence, the boy declared, “You’re in Roary’s tummy!”

Dennis giggled so hard that his own tummy ached. A hiccup bubbled to the surface when he calmed, winning another round of laughter from them both. Freedom from pain and the opportunity to play like a normal kid brought out a new side of Dennis. Here was the miracle of childhood, always elusive to him but a right he should've had every day by natural law, finally handed to him! Hosts of cherubim opened up the heavens for the lonely boy, exchanging his dreams with promises and hope for a better life and if not receiving their gifts in the future, then he at least had these moments.

“Come here, you silly little goose,” Clarence’s silky voice urged, drawing the child down against him and into his arms.

Dennis nestled against the wiry body, head settled in the socket of Clarence’s shoulder while Roary sprawled across his chest and yawned sleepy boredom. Together they lay in quiet, simply enjoying each other and their surroundings. A world Dennis rarely got to wander through was now a reality to him. The house was long his prison, left there to be forgotten and neglected unless he was going to and from school or when Clarence was around. Sapphire sky and pillows of cumulus clouds floated passed their eyes, unleashing a tethered imagination.

“Clouds look like marshmallows,” stated Dennis.

“They look like a lot of things if you look closely enough.”

That set the boy’s lucid mind's eye to work. Silence grew benignly and gently between them as he watched the menagerie of shapes drift passed as if they were figures on a carousel whirling by. An elephant, a giraffe, a horse, a turtle… a lion. His thrilled heart hammered when he spotted that one.

“There’s _Roary_!” he shouted as he pointed, making Clarence flinch from the sudden loudness that vibrated through his ear.

“That one?”

Dennis turned his head back to check if Clarence was pointing to the right cloud. Satisfied, he nestled down again, ramming his head into the adult’s shoulder socket too hard but confirming, “Yeah! That’s Roary!”

Holding his stuffed animal skyward, he said, “Look, Roary, you’re in the _sky_!”

Roary, held up in Simba fashion, glanced up, licked his chops then was distracted by a pair of falling leaves he tried to swat as they rained down before his eyes.

The cloud’s formation shifted, distorting the leonine shape Dennis originally saw.

“Hey!” he complained. “It doesn’t look like Roary anymore!”

“It doesn’t?”

“No! Why?”

“Clouds shift, kiddo.”

“Why?”

“The wind. Rotation of the Earth. Some clouds are higher up than others and the air moves differently where they are. So the clouds beneath them, the ones closer to us, can move in a different direction than the clouds above them.”

Wonder etched across Dennis’ face as he pondered the new information, watching to see if any of the clouds circling above followed this rule. But they all drifted in the same direction and his shoulders slumped in disappointment. He wanted to see the clouds do something weird!

“Alright, kiddo, let’s get up,” urged Clarence. “We’ve got a lotta work to do.”

Dennis’ face was aglow. He was going to be a helper! A brew of curiosity and excitement pumping through him, he readily got to his feet and watched Clarence follow suit, brushing the dirt and bits of dried leaves and twigs from his backside. Suddenly aware that he was probably dirty too, Dennis swiped his hand down his own backside, doing his best to rid himself of autumn debris.

But the tiniest pieces of dead leaves, desperate to hang on to life like a human spirit to a living person, clung to him with countless threadlike fingers and wouldn’t come off no matter how diligently he brushed at them. The discord drew Clarence’s eye and he took over the task, turning the boy around to make sure he got everything. But another thing yet bothered the child. Roary was struggling to reach a mess of leaf fragments on his back.

“Leaves are on _Roary_ too!”

“I see! Let me clean him.”

Dennis relinquished custody of his prized feline friend to Clarence who delicately plucked the particles of dry leaves from the stuffed toy. With great impatience, Dennis jumped up and down, wanting Roary spotless and in his arms again. Just as eager, Roary squawked and reached for the little boy he was meant to protect. What felt like eternity concluded with Dennis’ precious friend returned to his arms where Roary gnawed on the collar of the child’s jacket.

Once Roary was restored to his rightful place, Clarence strode towards the back section of the yard where a witch’s house from a fairy tale stood. Having never seen it before because he’d never been in the backyard, Dennis held his breath in expectation of the witch to appear with a sinister invitation for poisoned tea or maybe her pet monster to dash from it and chase them away. Hugging Roary tight, his breath hitched when Clarence reached the house, unlocked the padlock with one of the keys from his pocket and swung the creaky door open. Only moths and dust fluttered out and Dennis released his fear with a sigh. It was only an ordinary shed. Monsters slayed and witches melted, Dennis approached to help but Clarence halted his steps.

“Stand back, kiddo, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Get hurt? But nothing evil lurked in the shed! What could hurt him? Nevertheless, Dennis obeyed, watching while Clarence fumbled through the mess of instruments and unidentifiable objects inside. Then he understood. Most of what was there looked hostile, like things Mother Monster would use to hurt him. Rakes and shovels he identified: mean things with heavy metal heads affixed to long wooden handles. The other things he didn’t know the names of, nor did he want to. Even Roary whimpered and hugged closer against him.

“It’s OK, Roary,” Dennis comforted his toy. “Daddy will be OK.”

A friendlier rake with skinny fingers splayed out like a child’s hand displaying the number five was chosen instead and the boy was relieved. Dennis could tell this rake was lighter to handle and it wasn’t threatening like the one now locked back up in its bleak home. Maybe Clarence would allow him to use it too and they could take turns working. As for the other things, Dennis was happy when that which looked like torture devices left his sight. Good riddance to them!

“C’mon, kiddo!” Clarence jarred him from his reverie. He stooped to retrieve the affable rake from where it dropped to the ground and walked to the far corner of the yard.

For a moment, Dennis took interest in the father’s collection of leaves into a mobile heap that trailed with him in the wake of every backward step. To Dennis, it looked as if he was combing the lawn like it was the ground’s hair. Green grass still nestled beneath its autumnal blanket of leaves, not yet dead by snowfall or winter’s chill. He surveyed the yard around him. There were _a lot_ of leaves to clean and he knew it would take Clarence forever to rake them all up. If he worked too much, then he’d be too tired to play after he finished, he noted with dismay.

The prospect of soiling his clothes was abysmal but if it meant saving some of Clarence’s energy for playtime, he’d take the risk. A clean, dry, grassy spot beneath a tree was scouted out for Roary to wait under then Dennis scooped as many leaves as he could into his arms and dumped them on the top of the pile Clarence was forming.

“Whatcha you doin’, buddy?” asked Clarence, touched with affectionate amusement.

“I’m helping!” answered Dennis, dropping another armful onto the growing pile.

“Yeah, you’re a really big help!”

The pair worked for several long minutes in studious quietness. Every so often, Dennis glanced over to check Roary and saw toy lion cub grooming himself to pass the time. As Dennis’ best friend, Roary had a huge job: he played with and protected Dennis the way Dennis protected Kevin, sleeping in the alter’s arms, always with eyes wide open to lurking potential dangers. The protector of the protector. Even in the time of play under the safety of Clarence’s supervision, Roary was vigilant and Dennis returned the favor in kind. Satisfied that Roary was safe and keeping himself busy, Dennis continued with his yard work.

It took a long time, forever by the boy’s standards, and he was beginning to tire. Then he was distracted by a surreptitious sound. A song lightly emitted from under Clarence’s breath but Dennis couldn’t understand it. He edged closer to the grownup, trying to hear the words. When they were audible, they were nonsense that enraptured the boy with their odd creativity.

_“Picture yourself in a boat on a river  
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies  
Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly  
A girl with kaleidoscope eyes.”_

“What’s a klyascope?” he asked earnestly, his brow furrowing at his twisted tongue.

“Ka-lie-da-scope. It’s a toy that you peek into. While you’re looking in, you turn a tiny handle around and around and inside there’s a spiral of colors that form different shapes.”

“Like a yellow star?”

“Like a yellow star.”

Lifting Dennis into his arms, Clarence pressed the small body close and told him to hold tight. Dennis braced himself as Clarence spun around and around, faster and faster, the force throwing the boy’s head back. Above, the treetops melted together like crayons left too long near a furnace, the colors of their leaves running into each other. Rust, mustard, maroon, ochre, goldenrod, orange…swirling above him in a pantomime of Clarence’s kaleidoscope. It was so beautiful but Dennis had little time to enjoy it because a tickle swelled inside his stomach as if he was on a carnival ride. Laughter bubbled up from that tickle in a swelling wave released with childish abandon. His joyous shrieks echoed through the yard, the colors of the leaves now a solid mass, all one hue different from their individual shades.

Finally, his ride ended. Clarence slowed then stopped, setting him back down on the ground. Though his feet were on solid land, it felt like he stood on a wobbly sea. Unbalanced and dizzy, he attempted a step but tumbled over on his side onto a cushion of raked grass. Clarence’s laugh was so hard that after Dennis sat up he caught the contagion and joined in, his eyes and head still whirling with vertigo.

“You’re a hysterical little dork!” exclaimed Clarence, accompanying the boy on the ground.

“ _You’re_ a ‘sterical dork!” The word dork reminded him of Roary and, pointing to the toy, he shrieked: “ _Roary_ wants to play!”

“Go get him, then!”

A most valiant effort was made but when Dennis attempted to rise, he tumbled back down. Again, Clarence sent a volley of laughter to the heavens. When Dennis made a second try, he finally found his legs but stood in place afraid to walk.

Perhaps it was vertigo or it was what he caught sight of. What is anything good unless something evil balances it out? Frigid January desolation descended upon the fun in the yard when Dennis’ happy eyes found the face. Mother Monster glowered a warning at them from the kitchen window of the house, binding Dennis in a spell of terrorized paralysis beneath her glacial threat. The fit of laughter from Clarence calmed and he nudged the boy he thought was his son then gestured to Roary alone beneath the tree, either ignoring Penelope Crumb’s disapproval or not knowing it was being given.

“Roary’s waiting,” he reminded, effectively breaking the curse.

“Rrrrrroooooooaaaarrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyy!!!!!” cried Dennis, then bolted toward his best friend, seeking the lion toy’s defense.

Roary startled from his nap when he was snatched up into the arms of the lonely child who raced back toward the adult waiting for them. Closer and closer, Dennis closed the gap between them but when he tried to stop, he slipped on leaves not yet raked and skidded into Clarence’s pile like a baseball player stealing base. Leaves went everywhere and Dennis sat stunned amongst them.

Now he ruined everything. Now he was going to get punished. Mother Monster was going to bring the belt down and he was going to get locked away in the basement. His lower lip quivered in anticipation of perilous consequence. Remembering that crying meant weakness and weakness meant a worse sentence, he collected himself very quickly.

“Whoa! Are you OK, Kevin?”

This time Clarence was more concerned than entertained.

“I’m OK,” was the boy’s fearful reply. “I’m sorry.”

Clarence’s face softened with understanding.

“For what, Kev?”

His voice was warm vanilla and Dennis didn’t feel he deserved the sentiment, not after what he’d just done.

“I messed up the leaves.”

Contemplation formed on the father’s face.

“It’s OK. The wind was probably going to blow them away any way. Why don’t we mess them up some more?”

The stormy turbulence of the child’s blue eyes cleared, replaced by hope. Yet he was still too frightened to move. He’d been lured into doing something offensive just so he could be beaten before. He wanted to believe Clarence but distrust was too ingrained within him.

Sensing the problem, Clarence took initiative and kicked at the pile, sending a cluster into the air that fluttered back down all over the place. He caught Dennis’ eye and smiled, allowing the boy to giggle. He repeated the action with more gusto, wrecking the mound even more.

“You know what this pile needs?”

Dennis answered with a shake of his head.

“A little boy jumping in them.”

“Can Roary jump in them too?”

“You and Roary can mess them all up together.”

Still hesitant, the boy stared at the father with disbelief in what he was hearing. Even Roary looked worried that he’d have to protect his owner for doing something wrong.

“Go ahead, Kev. You’re a kid. It’s OK to play.”

Tentative, Dennis approached the heap of leaves and toed the edge. Roary groaned as if saying to be careful so Dennis glanced back over his shoulder at Kevin’s father, still unsure of the permission.

“Go on,” Clarence continued to urge without a trace of malice.

Dennis turned back and kicked the leaves. When nothing bad happened, he kicked them again. He laughed and kicked harder still, sending enough leaves into the air with a force that brought them raining back down over his head. Great. Now he was dirty, he thought as he ducked. But the happy sound of Clarence’s laughter remedied his fear of pain and filth and he plucked up a handful of leaves that were tossed at Clarence.

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” the adult inquired. “It’s war!”

Dennis found himself on the receiving end of a leaf storm pouring down atop him from Clarence’s arms. Ducking down again, he released a joyous shriek. Dennis placed Roary down into the leaves, dropped to his knees beside him and threw an armful into the air above them, meaning to attack Clarence. Another delighted screech then another mass of leaves was tossed into the air, the mountain diminishing from their play.

Growing tired, Clarence sat back and watched Dennis and Roary frolic together: a pair of acrobats tumbling and somersaulting through the leaves, making a gleeful mess of the mountain. Roary gathered a mass of them into his forepaws, took a mouthful and shook his head vigorously. Dennis laughed and Roary toppled onto his side, grabbed the leaves again and kicked them wildly with his back legs.

“Roary!” Dennis laughed and the lion cub sprang to his feet and began digging through the pile as if searching for a buried treasure.

Roary already had a treasure worth far more than jewels or gold coins: the heart in Dennis’ chest. Devoted to Roary through imitation, the boy dropped to all fours and copied the stuffed animal’s imagined movement, digging through the leaves and flinging them backwards at Clarence.

“Hey!” protested the father when a batch smacked him in the face.

Then Dennis exclaimed, “Raaaaarrrrr!! I’m Roary and I’m gonna get you!”

“Come get me!” Clarence challenged.

“Raaarrrrr! Rrrraaaaarrrrrr!!!!”

Dennis chased Clarence through the leaves on his hands and knees, the adult pretending to be terrified while retreating by scooting backwards. He shoved leaves at the advancing pretend lion who was in hot pursuit. At first Roary occupied himself with chasing the strewn about leaves but upon seeing Dennis on the prowl, he joined the hunt and the two stalked their prey side by side.

“Oh my god, help me!” begged Clarence. “Somebody please help me!”

“Raaaaaarrrrr!!!!”

Closer and closer still came Dennis and Roary.

“They’re going to get me! Help! Help!”

“Rarrrrrr!!”

The leonine pair pounced simultaneously into Clarence’s welcoming arms. Dennis roared and poured a waterfall of leaves over Clarence’s head until he was drawn down into the parent’s adoring arms and kissed the child’s face and head profusely.

“ _I’ve_ got _you_ now! What’re you going to do?”

“Roary is going to save me!”

But Roary was chasing leaves and didn’t come to his owner’s aid when summoned. That was fine. Dennis didn’t really want to be saved any way.

When the merriment died down and their heavy breathing returned to normal, Clarence reached over to include Roary in his warm embrace. To Dennis’ delight, Roary laved his tongue with unmatched tenderness and zeal over Clarence’s face. He loved Clarence so it was important that Roary did too.

“Roary’s licking your face!” the boy informed, his eyes wide and bright with unconditional love. “He’s doing it because he loves you!”

“Is that so? Well, I love Roary too.”

He leaned over with a soft grunt and planted a sweet kiss on Roary’s plush head. Roary nuzzled against him and so did Dennis, never more content if they were wrapped in warm pajamas on a cold night.

“And I love _Kevin_ most of all,” assured Clarence, giving a sobering, stinging realization to the child.

He wasn’t Kevin. He was Dennis. Of course, Kevin’s father didn’t know that – Dennis was a good actor - but seemed to love Dennis just the same. What if he found out he was some other boy pretending to be his son? Would he still love him? Or would he throw him away, leave him out in the cold to die? He was afraid so he kept quiet and took what love he could get, even if he needed to masquerade as Kevin to get it.

“It’s getting dark and cold. Why don’t we go in and make some hot chocolate?”

Dennis’ eyes glittered as he nodded agreement. Then he thought of facing Mother Monster’s wrath for leaving the yard a mess.

“But the leaves…”

“The leaves can wait until tomorrow. Come on. Let’s go inside. We’ll make hot chocolate, snuggle under a bunch of blankets and watch _The Lion King_.”

Dennis gasped. _The Lion King_ was his favorite movie! He nodded and accepted Clarence’s hand to be led away.

“The rake!” he suddenly remembered, frightened that Mother Monster would scold them for leaving the tool behind.

“It’s OK where it is, sweetheart. I don’t think anybody will be able to even see it to steal it. We’ll finish our work tomorrow. Come on.”

The hand Clarence offered to the child was rejected as Dennis found another reason to stall facing Mother Monster.

“Me and Roary are dirty!”

“I know. I’ll give you a bath once we’re in the house.”

Shaking his head vigorously and standing his ground steadfast, Dennis insisted, “Leaves are _all over_!”

Giving up, Clarence sighed. He knew precisely what the child meant without asking. Penelope would beat him if he entered the house in this state. Clarence himself would be on the receiving end of heavy verbal abuse to mild physical assault himself. Better him than Kevin, any day. Yet he didn’t want the child to be a part of it in the least. He shouldn’t see, hear or experience abuse of any type. His son deserved better.

Dennis tried earnestly to divest himself and Roary of the crumpled leaf fragments, breaking Clarence’s heart. The reason the boy was so adamant and frantic was because of the abuse he was accustomed to. Abuse Clarence wanted to avoid tonight no matter the expense.

“C’mere, buddy, I’ll help. You’re fine, don’t worry.”

Dennis struggled against another urge to cry as Clarence took what seemed like hours to pick him and Roary clean again. The evening deepened into a darker night and without the sun, a chill settled in. None of it compared to what awaited them inside the house if they entered in their current state. The more time that passed, the more anxious Dennis became, his frightened eyes continually straying to the window to check whether or not they were being watched.

Mother Monster never appeared again and Dennis was relieved by her absence but when he and Clarence finally entered the house, she was in the kitchen, busy at the stove. For a change, she turned around to greet them with a smile while Clarence removed and hung their coats up in the hallway closet. Mother Monster was actually a pretty woman and her prettiness was often disarming to the child, thought Dennis When she smiled, she was _very_ pretty but even her best smile put Dennis on edge.

“There’re my two boys!” she addressed with uncharacteristic and eerie cheerfulness. “I’m making some grilled cheese and hot tomato soup for dinner.”

“Sounds great, hon,” Clarence remarked before pecking her on the lips. “Let me get the kiddo ready and we’ll sit down with you.”

A reassuring hand on his back led Dennis from the kitchen but the child’s eyes never left the woman there. Hoisted up into Clarence’s arms, he and Roary were whisked into the bathroom upstairs, out of her sight and away from her. Good things from Mother Monster generally were paid with a high price. There in the bathroom, Roary struggled to leave his arms until Dennis placed him down on the hamper. Clarence cleaned him up with a warm, wet, soapy washcloth but Dennis protested.

“I want a bath,” he whined.

“I know, and I know I promised one. But we have to hurry because mommy is making dinner. We don’t want dinner to get cold.”

“But I want a bath! She’ll get me if I don’t take a bath!”

“She won’t get you, Kevin. She’s making dinner like she’s supposed to.” Clarence sighed, unsure how to handle his son’s justifiable assumption. Penelope was a powder keg and anything she considered out of line was a match. Dirtiness wasn’t just a match, it was a torch. But he still had faith in the woman he loved, even if it was only a sliver. “She’s trying, Kev,” comforted the father. “It’s OK. She’ll learn.”

“Roary needs a bath too.”

“We’ll put Roary in the wash tomorrow, OK?”

“Roary will be OK?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Roary will be OK. He can eat with us. We’ll place him in the extra chair too.”

Freshly bathed and in cozy pajamas, Dennis let Roary leap back into his arms and then was escorted back downstairs to a table set and food waiting. Clarence helped him into a chair but Dennis reminded: “What about Roary?”

“Roary goes right here.”

Clarence took the toy lion from the child’s arms and seated him in the empty chair, as promised. Dennis smiled at Kevin’s father and bit into the sandwich in front of him. He ate happily, watching Roary chow down on a make believe sandwich that Clarence gave him.

“Roary was hungry,” laughed Dennis.

“You must be too,” Mother Monster told him with an alarming sweet tone. “Finish your food, Kevin.”

“I told him we’ll have hot chocolate and watch _The Lion King_ after,” Clarence informed her.

She nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

Her eyes locked with Dennis’ and she smiled at him. Dennis dropped his gaze to his cup of soup, scared to look her in the eye for long.

“Blow it before you drink,” she advised.

He obeyed and listened to Kevin’s parents chat about grownup stuff that was of little importance or understanding to a kid. He finished his meal silently, the hot food warming him from the inside out. Was this what a normal life was for a normal kid? Why couldn’t it be like this every day for him? He’d give anything for it to be.

Like with Clarence’s love, he took what he could get while he could get it. After Kevin’s parents finished eating, he followed Clarence into the living room. Mother Monster cleared the table and ran the dishwasher for the dirty dishes so she didn’t participate in the movie viewing prep. Clarence and Dennis made a nest of pillows and blankets on the floor in front of the sofa, Dennis burrowing down into the succulently warm blankets as Clarence put the movie in the DVD player. The movie started and Dennis clapped and cheered, Roary pressed tightly against him. Clarence settled down on the floor, taking Dennis and Roary in his arms just as Mother Monster came into the room, taking her place in the chair Dennis generally sat in.

Dennis had seen _The Lion King_ so many times that he knew every word. Those words were intermittently repeated, some scenes acted out with Roary, and each song was sung in a duet with Clarence. Like all children who experienced something good, particularly if it was out of the ordinary, he wanted the night to never end. But end it eventually did. Near the end, he snuggled deeper against Clarence and beneath the blankets where the scent of lemon and clean skin was strong. Everything was a perfect bliss: warm, soft and hard in all the right places. He yawned once and found himself back in Kevin’s headspace.

Dennis secured Kevin in the warm circle of his arms against the cool Dark in the same manner that Clarence held him on the floor.

“Your daddy loves you,” Dennis informed, not for the first time. “You need to take The Light to spend time with him. He loves you.”

After Kevin made the childish whine of stubborn refusal in his throat, Dennis sighed.

“He thinks I’m you,” the older boy continued. “He ‘tects me from her. He’ll ‘tect you too. Don’t be afraid.”

“No,” was Kevin’s adamant reply. “Daddy always leaves. He leaves me with her and she hurts me. I don’t believe you.”

Dennis didn’t know how to convince Kevin that his father cared for him and thought the world of his only child. Maybe not his _only_ child, but Clarence didn’t know. Dennis needed to figure out a way to coax the boy back into The Light. He resorted to telling him about the time he personally shared with Clarence, hoping it would inspire Kevin to reemerge. With little left to lose, the older child recounted the memories of the day to the meeker boy.

Comfortable and content in his protector’s arms and wishing he’d been brave enough to take The Light and spend time with his father, Kevin settled for the second best thing. He drifted back to soporific obscurity while listening intently to Dennis’ miraculous tales of a daring escape from being crushed by enclosing walls, marshmallow carousels, witches and creatures in a tiny house in the backyard, African hunts with a stuffed lion that was alive and, of course, the girl with kaleidoscope eyes.

**Nepenthe**

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: I wrote this because I got so heavy-hearted and sick of writing scenes where this poor baby is abused. He deserves a moment of joy stolen from Mother Monster.  
>  This story was inspired by this photo shoot:  
>  [**_Lion Cub Playing in Autumn Leaves_**](https://www.huffpost.com/entry/lion-cub-autumn-leaves_n_4318415)  
>  And the girl with kaleidoscope eyes:  
>  [**_Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds_**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=71&v=naoknj1ebqI&feature=emb_logo)  
>  And if you haven’t already, please check out the further adventures of Dennis, Roary and Clarence in my fan novel [**_Fragment_**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16745359/) and its first companion piece [**_Coercion_**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21463654/).
> 
> A new chapter of _Fragment_ will be posted soon.


End file.
